"Only 14 hours until the plane leaves, I've made it through the entire summer without strangling anyone, I can make it another 14 hours," Luis thought as he hastily shoved his clothes in trash bags, trying to get everything packed between the chores and errands that had occupied most of his free time this summer. Even that manner of "free time" was scarce between shifts at the local grocery store, where he helped little old women who had no cars carry their meager packages of food down the street to their even littler, older, dilapidated apartment buildings. Most of these women were so obviously impoverished Luis felt guilty taking the occasional tip, usually of loose change, they sometimes offered, yet he was even more reluctant to accept the wet kisses on the cheek, they offered more frequently. When his last wrinkled shirt had been stuffed into a garbage bag, he finally heeded his mother's nagging call to dinner, making his way into the last empty seat of the nine gathered around the crowded table and bowed his head for the traditional prayer. When the food had been blessed there was a mad rush of forks into the rice bowl, followed by a vicious fight for the biggest piece of pork amongst the older children. Luis lost and settled for a smaller fatty end, contented by the fact that he would soon be eating in a cafeteria where there was plenty of food for everyone, not to mention enough elbow room to eat it without knocking over anyone's glass which at the Mendoza/Gonzalez/Perez dinner table was as ritualistic as the prayer. Tonight it was Katie, Luis's youngest cousin at 5, who unintentionally knocked over her brother Eddy's milk, spilling it all over Eddy, Nando, Luis's half brother, and Lucy, his grandmother, all of whom, despite the regularity of the event, acted as though they had been splattered with napalm rather than milk, shouting in a mix of Spanish and English and frantically rubbing at themselves with napkins. The dramatic scene caused a guilt laden Katie to burst into tears and run into the room she shared with Juana and Rose, her older sisters. Luis's mother and aunt, who comprised the remainder of their crazy, dramatic, clan continued eating as though nothing had happened. After supper they hurried off to their night jobs as waitresses at a tourist's club, leaving Luis to clean up the mess. As he cleared the dishes he happily dreamed of simpler times at Eden Hall, where he would thankfully be returning in 13 hours.

Meanwhile, in an airport terminal in Oslo, Lana sat awaiting her boarding call with equal enthusiasm to return to Minnesota. However, she was not as fortunate as Luis, who would be leaving his family at home. In the seat beside her loomed the towering presence of her cousin Vladimir. At 16, he was well over 6'5'' and two hundred pounds of muscle. Not a student of Lana's caliber, he had gotten into the American academy on a hockey scholarship when Lana brought him to the attention of the coaches at Eden Hall where she had been sent because of her outstanding achievements in science and English, as an exchange student. Although she was desperate to free her cousin from the miserable conditions of their hometown in the Urals, she was somewhat nervous about the responsibility she was undertaking. Despite his size, Vladimir was a rather passive and quiet young man, with dark hair in desperate need of a pair of scissors, preferably a pair sharper than those used previously. He did not speak more than a few bumbling phrases of English, which included "Hello, My name is Vladimir," "Where is the bathroom," "Where is Svetlana," and, of course, "Hockey," which Lana had far less trouble teaching him than any of the others. It seemed to Lana that he had been born on skates, he loved the game and he was good at it. In Russia he could have made the super league soon, but upon the advice of Lana he accompanied her to America instead. As a professional athlete in Russia at his age, Vladimir would be destined for trouble. The mafia, whose influence was diminishing, nevertheless controlled a fair amount of the Russian sporting business, then there were all the other dangers a little fame and fortune can bring a young man, especially one of Vladimir's nature. There was no doubt in Lana's mind that taking her cousin to America, where he could receive a better education, learn English, and be seen more readily by NHL scouts was in his best interest. America was safe, everyone had enough to eat, their were no orphanages overflowing with abandoned babies, and even in Minnesota the climate was more agreeable. The year Lana had spent there had been the greatest time of her life. She was not popular at the ritzy private school, in fact, her simple clothes and slight accent made her a target for ridicule, but still, she loved the classes, the books, the comfortable dorms, and the plentiful food. Now as she stood to board the next in a series of flights toward America she wished with all her might that this would be the last plane she would ever board, that she and her cousin could stay there forever.